the more I drank

the more sober I felt

so I stopped drinking.

walked two miles

thought about breaking

the train, the lock,

passed the corner

where a girl my age

sat and stared and considered

her lack of options. what

difference a job makes.

 

winding streets, ancient city,

dead riverbed, my mind

meandered on tar-coated

cobbles, horsewhipped.

I gave her my lunch,

she said it was fine

I couldn’t do more.

 

a sticker of negro matapacos

and a few broken zipties,

learning to look the other way.

my feet a chant el pueblo

unido jamas sera vencido.

the slogan exhausted

will never be repeated

 

allende died. at ground zero

I hurried through the empty

square, cold and clean marble

and tried to take that into myself.

watercannon clean. you remember

the video, you remember the shellshock,

the dust. on the platform a man stunk

so badly I held my breath and thought

I would rather fucking walk.

then I saw the cops.